


Photograph

by BlueTeamSucks



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Coming Out, FTM Wash, Reminiscing, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 12:02:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1940334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueTeamSucks/pseuds/BlueTeamSucks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loud laughter stirred Washington from his thoughts. He set his book down and peaked his head into the kitchen to make sure everything was okay. Laughing was not a very common occurrence in blue base unless it was directed at someone. He wanted to make sure Caboose wasn't going to get his feelings hurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Photograph

Loud laughter stirred Washington from his thoughts. He set his book down and peaked his head into the kitchen to make sure everything was okay. Laughing was not a very common occurrence in blue base unless it was directed at someone. He wanted to make sure Caboose wasn't going to get his feelings hurt.

Caboose and Tucker were sitting at the table with the reds, who had somehow snuck in without Wash noticing. He sighed, ready to ask Sarge what he was doing. He walked up to the table, standing behind Tucker and looked down at what they were laughing at.

Wash felt the blood drain from his face as he stared down at the old, crumbled photos that were strewn across the table. An open shoebox held even more pictures and a couple of DVDs and CDs. Wash tried to keep his composure, but failed miserably.

"What the hell are you guys doing?"

Everyone looked up at him with guilty expressions. Tucker twisted in his chair to get a good look at Wash. "I... Found this shoebox. We were just looking at the pictures and stuff."

"You 'found' this shoebox under my bed, in my room? Which was LOCKED?" Wash blew up, surprising everyone at the table. His voice didn't crack like it did when he was annoyed or arguing, they could all tell that he was mad and it showed in their stares.

Tucker gave him a confused look. "I know that snooping is wrong, but calm down dude. It's just some pictures of cats, Project Freelancer, and some girl."

Wash glanced down at one of the photographs. It was of a young, freckled girl with blonde braids. She was grinning widely with a gap where a front tooth was supposed to be. In her hand, she was proudly showing off a dollar bill, which she had gotten from the tooth fairy.

Wash scooped up the pictures that were on the table and carelessly dumped them back into the shoebox. He snapped the lid shut, then turned back to Tucker, who looked even more confused. "Don't touch my fucking stuff," he practically hissed.

"But I like this picture!" Caboose whined, tightly gripping a photo in his hands.

"Give me that." Wash snatched the rumpled picture away from Caboose before he even thought about what he was doing.

Caboose's eyes instantly started to water. From the looks that everyone else gave him, Wash knew that he had fucked up. Wash looked down at his hands, this picture was of two cats. The girl from the first photograph was hugging them tightly. He sighed deeply, then hesitantly handed it back to Caboose.

"I'm sorry, Caboose. There you go," Wash tried to apologize.

Caboose sniffled loudly, then accepted the picture bashfully. "I like these kitty cats."

Wash sat down in the only empty chair and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes to try and prevent his oncoming headache. "Me too buddy."

There was silence, then Donut spoke up. "Wash?"

"Mmm?"

"We get it if you don't want us looking at the more... Personal pictures, but can we see the ones from Project Freelancer? Those we interesting. You looked really happy." Donut asked quietly.

Wash looked up at him, blinking away the black spots in his vision from the pressure he had put on his eyes. "Sure." He reached into the shoebox and pulled out a few photographs. He spread them back out onto the table. "There you go."

Grif leaned over the pictures, looking bored. Then his jaw dropped. He pointed at one of the pictures. "Who the fuck is that?"

Wash looked at the person he was pointing at. A smile twitched over his lips. South was smirking at the person behind the camera, her colorfully tattooed arms crossed. She looked oddly playful in that one moment. Wash had forgotten that she could smile without looking sarcastic or mean.

"That's South. Why?" Wash glanced back up at Grif, who seemed awestruck.

"She's the most beautiful person I have ever seen."

They all stared at Grif in shock. Simmons turned to glare at him, as if he were personally insulted.

Wash cleared his throat. "She's kinda... Dead."

Grif stared at the picture for a second more, then leaned back in his chair as if he didn't care about South anymore. His expression showed otherwise.

"Wow, he looks just like South!" Donut exclaimed, squinting at another picture. Grif jolted up and followed Donut's pointing finger.

The photo Donut had pointed out was a bit more blurry. It was of North rolling his eyes at something York was doing off camera. He looked annoyed, but amused. Wash felt himself smile as he remembered that York was trying to do cartwheels and having a hard time succeeding.

"That's her twin brother, North," Wash informed them.

Simmons frowned. "What's he looking at?"

"York being stupid. He was doing cartwheels in the locker room. Nearly broke my nose when he accidentally kicked me in the face. He was in armor too, it fucking hurt." Wash wrinkled his nose at the painful memory.

Caboose perked up. "York is Carolina's best friend right? She told me she missed him like I miss Church!"

Wash's stomach twisted. "Yeah. Lemme find a picture of them together." Wash shuffled through the stack until he found a photo of Carolina throwing her head back laughing at something York had said. York had an arm around Carolina's shoulders. He was laughing too, but looked pleased with himself. He set the picture down on the table.

They all stared at it for a moment, before Donut whispered, "Wow. I've never seen her laugh before this."

Tucker gestured to another photograph. "Why do you looking like you've seen a motherfucking ghost in that picture, Wash?"

Wash couldn't help but laugh. "I drew a smiley face on Maine's helmet while he was asleep. He was not very happy, York got that one of me running away in fear."

"Maine? That's The Meta!" Grif's eyes went wide at the thought. Everyone looked at Wash as if he were insane.

Wash shrugged, but pulled out a group photo. He pointed to a slightly-smiling Maine. CT was leaning up against him. Wyoming was on the other side of the huge freelancer and was nudging Florida as if he had just said something funny. Wash pointed out who was who to everyone else.

"That's what Wyoming looks like? I honestly don't know why I'm surprised." Grif cocked his head to the side.

Sarge laughed. "Look at that mustache!"

Tucker tapped the picture of Florida. "I know him."

Wash shot Tucker a puzzled glance. "I don't know what happened to Florida. He kinda dropped off of the grid when Project Freelancer started falling apart and the actual Florida disappeared. I think that he was assigned as a Captain to some blue team in a... Canyon in the middle of nowhere..." Wash trailed off.

"Holy shit, he's Captain Butch Flowers." Tucker's eyes widened. "He died of a heart attack in his sleep before Caboose got to Blood Gulch."

"Well, at least he went peacefully. Wasn't that close to him." Wash frowned at Florida's picture.

Sarge sighed and leaned back in his chair, stretching. "Well, we best be going. Thanks for the stories, Agent Washington."

Wash nodded and gathered up the photographs, a bit more carefully this time. "See you tomorrow."

The reds left quickly and Caboose opted to go to bed early. Tucker wandered off to his room, leaving Wash alone in the kitchen. He stared down at the shoebox, totally lost in thought for at least five minutes.

Eventually, he gave in and gingerly opened the box and stared inside. He ignored the familiar pictures and grabbed one of DVDs. It was labeled 'Darla's 16th Birthday' in neat handwriting. Wash spun it around in his fingers for a moment, then walked over to their TV.

It took him a moment to set it up, but when he did, he started to feel a bit more anxious. The loading screen showed for about ten seconds, then a poor quality video started playing.

"Darla, look at the camera!"

Wash winced at the voice, rough from years of smoking. A girl in a large, gray hoodie glanced over at the camera. Freckles sprawled over her face and her curly hair reached just past her shoulders. Crooked bangs covered her forehead and she looked distantly concerned at all times.

"This video is for your father. He wanted to say hello!"

The girl instantly looked happier at the mention of her father. The corners of her lips twitched upward in a half-smile just like Wash sometimes did. She gave a small wave at the camera, then shyly tucked her hands back in her hoodie's pocket.

"He sent you a gift and he wants to see you open it. Here." The camera shifted as the woman behind it handed the girl a thin package wrapped carefully.

She gave the woman an excited, but confused glance. Her father was off fighting aliens, he was way too busy to get her birthday gifts. She quickly tore off the wrapping paper and opened the cardboard box it revealed. Inside, you could barely catch a glimpse of a gold necklace with a handwritten note. Wash's hand automatically flew to his neck to grip the chain that was still there.

"What do you think, Darla?" The camera moved closer to the girl, so that the view was now looking over her shoulder.

The girl lifted the necklace out of its box. It was half of a broken heart with the word 'best' engraved on it on a gold chain. The girl pushed her hood down and instantly put it on. She turned to the camera with tears in her eyes. "Thank you," she said in a voice that was purposely deeper than it should be for a girl of her size.

The screen went black and Wash sighed. His skin was still crawling, so he rubbed his arms, trying to comfort himself. He stood up and turned to leave, but came face-to-face with a sympathetic Tucker. Wash froze in horror.

There was a pause.

"Wash, we need to talk," Tucker gestured at the couch.

Wash numbly sat down, dreading what was coming. His stomach twisted as Tucker sat down next to him. He looked unusually serious. There was an awkward moment, where Wash had no idea what to say to a concerned-looking Tucker.

"You're okay Wash. Relax. Relax." Tucker teasingly nudged Wash's arm. Wash hesitantly relaxed the muscles he hadn't known he had been tensing.

Tucker frowned. "So I'm guessing that wasn't your hot sister?"

Wash managed a crooked smile. "Nope."

"So who was that?" Tucker tilted his head to the right.

Wash cast a glance at the blank TV screen. "That was me. When I was a teenager."

There was another silence where Wash refused to look over at Tucker. Tucker took a minute to gather his thoughts. "Okay. That's okay. You used to be a girl. Big deal."

"You... Don't care?" Wash finally looked Tucker in the eyes. He felt genuinely confused, he would've expected Tucker to be less understanding than this.

Tucker scoffed. "Dude, it's not 2010. It's totally fine. What I'm more worried about is the fact that you didn't feel comfortable telling me this."

Wash opened and closed his mouth like a fish. It took him a second to recover. "I... I'm kinda used to hiding it. Sorry."

Shrugging, Tucker gave him a nod. "I don't blame you or anything. I guess I owe you an apology for going through your stuff. I see why you felt so upset about it now."

Wash rubbed at the back of his neck nervously. "I shouldn't have yelled at you guys, still."

Tucker shrugged again. Wash let out a relieved laugh and full on smiled at Tucker. Tucker smiled back, then suddenly leaned forward, wrapping Wash into a tight, reassuring hug. Wash hesitated, then hugged back gratefully.

After a minute, Tucker let go. He gave Wash a teasing grin. "Okay, one thing. Darla?"

Wash rolled his eyes. "I legally changed it to David when I was eighteen."

Tucker furrowed his brow, as if he were considering the name. "David," he repeated. Tucker brightened up. "Yeah, it fits you."


End file.
